Steadfast
by Moonraven
Summary: For the upcoming ball, Yuuri chooses a costume for Wolfram…


**Title:** Steadfast  
 **Author** : Moonraven  
 **Pairings/Characters:** Yuuri x Wolfram  
 **Rating:** PG13 or T  
 **Warnings:** M/M fiction, some angst because well, Wolfram=angst.

Characters belong to Tomo Takabayashi

 **Summary:** For the upcoming ball, Yuuri chooses a costume for Wolfram…

"Why are we doing this again?" Yuuri asked, rubbing his forehead with the beginning of a headache.

His fiancé scowled and tossed a thick scroll with the list of wedding guests at him. "Because you've been putting this off for months and I'm tired of chasing after you."

He caught the scroll with ease though it was surprisingly heavy, making him wonder just how _long_ the list was. Yuuri could say something about being chased but wisely held his tongue. He was going to be in enough pain putting this off – again – as it was, he really shouldn't aggravate Wolfram more. "Then just leave it and I'll look at it later, like when I don't have a headache."

"You always have a headache when we talk about the wedding." Wolfram narrowed his eyes and snatched the scroll back. "It's not leaving my sight; the last time I left it with you, you used it to play fetch with Liesel. Do you know how difficult it was to get dragon saliva off parchment paper? It was impossible! It dissolved half the scroll and we had to rewrite the whole thing!"

"Heh… oh, yeah. Sorry about that," Yuuri said, trying to look apologetic, which he doubt was successful since Wolfram was still scowling at him. He sighed and decided to give up. After months of dodging the issue, surely tackling it head-on – no matter how painful – would be the better course?

Even though it wasn't the first time he had tried to say no…

"Look, Wolf, aside from the slapping thing, do you really, I mean REALLY want to marry another guy?"

Wolfram crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at him. "You asked me that every other month. Try again."

Yuuri let out an exasperated breath, throwing up his arms. "Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"Yes, it tells me that you're unsure of me!" Wolfram cried, his face flushed, eyes shining with what looked suspiciously like unshed tears. "Why do you still doubt me?"

Yuuri was speechless and he was pretty sure his jaw was hanging opened as well; that was the farthest thing from his mind. It wasn't Wolfram that was in question. Why would the blond feel that _he_ was the one that was lacking. Yuuri stared in shock at his fiancé who looked like he was doing his best not to cry; the fierce defiant glare only added to the heartbreaking sight.

"No! You've got it all wrong!" Yuuri shook his head vehemently, not liking the aching lump in his chest. "It's not you. It's me! _I_ don't want to marry–" Yuuri stopped short when he saw the devastation in Wolfram's eyes. "– yet," he added quickly. "I don't see why we can't wait a… few more years. I'm still a high school student and it's not like we're going anywhere…"

Wolfram closed his eyes, his face contorted with pain. Yuuri wanted to say something but the lump in his throat made it nearly impossible to speak. After a moment, however, Wolfram opened his eyes and fixed them on Yuuri… and they were filled with sadness. "You always say to wait. I feel that I'll be waiting forever."

Yuuri hated when Wolfram looked and sounded like that, it tore at his heart and he wondered why he couldn't please the blond more. Why couldn't he just give in and marry Wolfram? They practically live together now and at the way things were going, he seriously doubted he would find anyone to have a relationship with anyway.

His perspective on same sex marriage had also changed a great deal since his arrival in Shin Makoku. He was no longer shocked speechless at the thought of wedding Wolfram. In fact – and this he found almost as scary as the idea of marriage itself – he'd had some strange thoughts and dreams about his fiancé that he found greatly disturbing. Sure he'd always thought that Wolfram was gorgeous, ever since the first time he'd seen the Mazoku walking down the steps, but the past few months, gorgeous just wasn't the only thing he was thinking.

Yuuri swallowed hard and pushed the thoughts aside. He was a normal, hot blooded teenager, granted he was a slow bloomer (but at least he had bloomed), so those sexual thoughts were perfectly normal – right? He just happened to be in a mostly male environment, which was why lately images of a scantily clad Wolfram could make his groin tingle…

Okay. So why not marry the guy?

Because tingling groins should not be the basis of a marriage!

But it was a start… AGH! What was he thinking?

Yuuri looked up imploringly at Wolfram, wanting to ask for just a few more months if he couldn't have a few years. He really was quite confused about his feelings for the other boy … but said boy was gone. Yuuri blinked and looked around the room. While he was arguing with himself, Wolfram left him. He whimpered and dropped his head in his hands. His headache was getting worse and he had a feeling that it would not get better anytime soon.

This type of exchange was getting to be more frequent. In the past, Wolfram mostly left him alone about the wedding and only made passing comments at odd times, now he seemed persistent and determined. The blond was also questioning himself – his adequacy, which made Yuuri feel even worse. Wolfram was handsome and smart and loyal and devoted as well as fun and dedicated and er… that was odd; violent and selfish brat used to be the first things on the list.

So what did that say about Yuuri?

Yuuri groaned into his hands, wondering why the matter of the heart couldn't be as simple as the matter of state.

"Wolfram is gone again!" Greta complained as she sat on Yuuri's lap. They were in the library reading about heroes of Shin Makoku, a topic that fascinated Greta greatly and the source of the upcoming ball for the kingdom. The theme of the gala was the great heroes of Shin Makoku.

 _"Why is he gone again?" the little girl asked in a small voice, and then she turned to look at Yuuri with a little frown. "And don't say 'he's on patrol' because you've been saying that for the past week!"_

Yuuri smiled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "But he really is."

"I miss him," she said sadly. "He leaves so early I don't even get to have breakfast with him. And when he returns, it's so late… and then he goes and sleeps in his room."

Yuuri had noticed that, too. Ever since that day, Wolfram had avoided him. He left very early for patrol – something that he volunteered to do more now than he had ever done before – and only returned when everyone was already asleep. Yuuri had tried to stay up waiting for him; once he had even waited in front of Wolfram's bedroom door, wrapped up in his blanket, sitting on the floor. When he woke up, he was in his own bed with no sign of his fiancé. Yuuri sighed, not sure what he should do in this situation. He had to admit that he wasn't repulsed with the idea of marriage and 'doing'… well… marriage kind of things with Wolfram. In the beginning, that had freaked him out to no end. He nearly lost his sanity thinking about what married couples did and if he was required to do the same thing. It had gotten so bad that whenever he saw Wolfram, he would run away, infuriating the blond even more.

But now those thoughts no longer bothered him the same way. He was stunned to find that the physical part of the whole thing actually held some fascination for him – and if anyone asked, he fully intended to blame it on the Mazoku food he'd been eating – it was just the thought of getting married. THAT was scary.

"Yuuri?"

Ah! He spaced out again. He looked down at his concerned daughter and smiled. "I'm sure he just doesn't want to wake us up that late, Greta."

"I wouldn't have minded," she said in a small voice. Then looking at him from the corners of her eyes, she asked, "You wouldn't either, right Yuuri?"

Maintaining his smile, which he was beginning to doubt was reassuring, he shook his head. "No, I wouldn't mind at all."

"You miss him too, don't you?" asked Greta.

"Yes, I miss him too."

"And you _are_ sorry for what ever it was, you did, right?"

"Huh?" Where did that come from?

"Gwendal said that you must have done _something_ ," she told him solemnly. "And that when it came to Wolfram, whatever happened was usually your fault."

"He said that? But I didn't do anything!" he protested, though in this case, him _not_ doing anything was probably the problem.

"But everybody said that he looked really sad," said Greta unhappily. "I think you're the only one who could make him like that."

"I… um…" Yuuri could find nothing to say to that because most of what she had said was true. It was scary how he could affect another person's happiness so completely.

"You always say that we should say 'sorry' if we hurt someone," she continued in a somber tone. "So... you _will_ tell him? You'll make it all better?"

Yuuri sighed and hugged her tight. "I'll do that, Greta, if I can ever catch him."

The little girl hugged him back, smiling happily. "I know how you can do better than that."

Yuuri laughed. "Really? What do you have in mind?"

Greta thumped the book they were reading. "He told Conrad that we should pick out his costume for him," she said, thumbing through the pages. "Let's look for a great hero he could dress up as, so that he would know what we think of him and how much we love him."

Yuuri's heart melted. She was such a sweet girl; so innocent, so loving. He hugged her close, his emotion causing a big lump in his throat. "That's a fantastic idea, Greta," he whispered, a little hoarse. "I'm sure he would love it."

She stopped, looking thoughtful. "What about the Great King? Besides you, who could be more heroic that Shinou? And they really do look alike, don't they?"

Yuuri shuddered at the thought. "Um… no. I don't think Wolfram would appreciate dressing up as the guy who took out his heart," Yuuri said without thinking, and then realized that it was probably not something you say to little girls. He added quickly, "Besides, I have to dress up as Shinou, remember? It's tradition for the current Maou to dress up as the Original King."

Greta gave up the idea with an understanding nod, and then continued the search for the perfect hero. An hour later, Yuuri was beginning to think that Shin Makoku had less of an exciting past than he had been led to believe. Then something caught his eyes; something golden and fierce.

"How about him?" He pointed to the man on the current page. "He looks a lot like Wolfram, too."

Sir Roland von Bielefeld not only looked like Wolfram, he was also an ancestor who lived some 800 years ago. Greta was beside herself, squealing about a perfect match.

"How brave!" Greta exclaimed. "But so sad!"

According to their reading, Roland died fighting - single handedly - a large band of bandits who had raided his land. But that wasn't the part that had Greta so enraptured. Before his tragic end, the heroic Roland chased after the bandits for three days and nights, trying to rescue his fiancé who had been taken during the raid.

"Oh, Yuuri," sighed Greta, wiping tears on the sleeves of her dress. "Doesn't that sound like something Wolfram would do?"

Yuuri couldn't agree more – his fiancé had actually done something very similar to Sir Roland though the outcome was very much different.

Yuuri stared at the picture of the blond hero, sternly wielding his sword against the 20 odd bandits. The resemblance to his own fiancé was uncanny and he might have thought that they had used Wolfram as the model if he hadn't known that the book was complied over 100 years ago. He thought about Roland's devotion and suddenly felt an ache in his chest. Wouldn't it be a perfect tribute for Wolfram to dress up as Sir Roland? Would the blond understand his offer when Yuuri himself was still unsure? He didn't know if he could promise the kind of love Wolfram craved but he could promise that he wouldn't run away and that he would try to understand the other boy more.

"Do you think someone could get us this costume?" Yuuri pointed to the picture. "There's a crest of some kind on his arm that I've never seen before." But Greta was already closing the book and scrambling off his lap.

"Let's go see Lady Cheri, Yuuri!" the girl said, tugging on his arm while awkwardly clutching the huge book to her chest with one arm. "I know she could help us get it."

Yuuri rescued the book as it slipped from her limb and followed her out of the room; she was already skipping down the hallway practically singing, "Wolfram would be so happy!"

It had taken them a while but they had finally found Lady Cheri who had an amazing collection of costumes dating back to the time of the Original King. Some, they were told, were the actual outfit that was worn by the heroes themselves though Yuuri had big doubts about that - he couldn't see how they could stay so well preserved. Greta had wanted to keep their costumes a secret so Lady Cheri had left them to peruse the large room by themselves. The number of racks was staggering; luckily they were well organized and labeled.

"So who are you going to be, Greta?" asked Yuuri as he looked through the racks containing girls' attires. "Who have you decided on?" His daughter had changed her mind so many times these past few weeks that it was hard to remember her choices.

Greta pursed her lip, not pausing in her search. "I had wanted to dress as Sir Roland's fiancé since Yuuri had to be Shinou but he was a man and I don't think Wolfram would look good with a tiny fiancé like me."

"I know that Wolfram would love to have you as his fiancé for the ball. He loves you."

Greta giggled. "I'm his daughter, silly. I can't be his fiancé."

She pulled out a lovely gown in green silk, trimmed with cream colored lace. The contrast complimented her dark complexion and hair beautifully.

"But I can be his mother when she was a little girl," said his daughter, looking quite pleased with herself.

Yuuri had to smile, though he was having a hard time imagining Lady Cheri in something so conservative. Thank goodness Greta hadn't picked out something that the lady in question would wear at present.

It took a while longer for them to find Sir Roland's outfit, mainly because Yuuri wanted the exact same one that he had seen in the book. Of course there was the possibility that it didn't exist and if that was the case, he was willing to find something close to it. Fortunately, that outfit did exist and Yuuri pulled it out with reverence. For a style that was worn more than 800 years ago, it looked very much like the uniform Wolfram customarily wore. The blue was a bit darker though and instead of the golden trim, Sir Roland's garment was accented with white. The crest that Yuuri had seen in the picture was that of a dragon, embroidered in the lightest of blue thread, giving it the appearance of water. It was something very similar to what Yuuri as the Maou had conjured up many times that it gave Yuuri a suddenly deep sense of recognition. _This_ was perfect.

But as he handled the heavy material, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of sadness; it nearly took his breath away. He stared at the blue garment uncertainly, not sure if it was his imagination triggered by Roland's own tragic history or if it was simply his own misery at the rift between Wolfram and himself. He'd never thought that the separation would have such an effect on him.

"Yuuri?"

"Ah… I found it, Greta." He tore his gaze away from the clothes in his hands and held the outfit out for his daughter to see. "What do you think?"

"Wah… it's perfect!" Greta was practically bouncing up and down in her glee. "He'd really like it, right Yuuri?"

"I'm sure he would, Greta. Now how would you like to give it to him?" Yuuri had no confidence that he would see Wolfram anytime soon. The blond was still avoiding him after all.

In the end, they had decided to leave it in Wolfram's room, on the bed. Greta had insisted on leaving a note with it but Yuuri had left that to her – whatever he had to say to Wolfram was best said in person. There was no way he could convey everything on a piece of paper. Knowing himself, he would just screw it up and cause more problems again.

Yuuri was more than a little hurt the next day when the blond continued to avoid him. He had heard from Sangria, though, that Wolfram had made it a point to seek Greta out and had spent some time before going out on patrol with her. That thought put a strange lump in his throat. Wolfram had certainly come a long way from that selfish brat he had met a little over a year ago. At least whatever their daughter wrote had broken part of the barrier that the blond had put up. Yuuri was glad since he didn't want anyone else to suffer for what he had done, especially Greta.

For the next few days, Wolfram continued his visits with their daughter but remained unapproachable with Yuuri.

"You're still in the dog house, huh, Shibuya?" Murata asked as they got ready for the ball. They were in Yuuri's room and Murata was helping him dress – or so he said but judging by the way his friend just leaned against the wall and made random comments, 'help' was questionable.

"I don't know why he's still upset," Yuuri whine. He was well aware that kings shouldn't whine but given the circumstance, he was beyond caring. "I thought picking that particular hero would have made him all swoony, you know how he gets. But it didn't seem to do anything at all."

"You want to tell me who this wonderful hero is?" Murata asked.

"Nope." Yuuri shook his head. "It's a secret."

Murata rolled his eyes and said, "Fine. Whoever it is, at least Greta gets her other father back."

"I don't think it has anything to do with that. I think he would have realized that he was hurting her sooner or later." But of course, the letter Greta had written probably jolted him to _some_ of his senses. Then another thought struck Yuuri. "What if he wanted to dress up as Rufus von Bielefeld?" He spun on his heels to face Murata; the movement nearly threw the blond wig off his head. He adjusted it quickly as he continued talking. "Conrad is going as Lawrence Weller and Gwendal as Siegbert, their respective ancestors… what if Wolfram had wanted to be a part of that? I mean, I am going as Shinou and you as the Great Sage; we're all dressing in one era except Wolfram. What if he's upset because he thinks I'm excluding him again?"

Murata looked thoughtful, nodding. "Knowing Lord von Bielefeld, it's a definite possibility."

Yuuri groaned; a mixture of exasperation and resignation. His fiancé was something else. "He's always jumping to conclusion," he complained. "He never listens; he gets mad for no reason and blows everything way out of proportion –"

"But you love him, anyway," said the Great Sage.

"I love him any… hey! That's not what I was going to say!" Yuuri's face must have been as red as Shinou's coat he was wearing. "Don't put things in my mouth."

"So you don't love him."

"No! I mean yes… like a friend," Yuuri added quickly. "Like I love Conrad or Gwendal… or even you." But as he said it, Yuuri knew that it wasn't completely true. He couldn't tell if it was _love_ , love but he was sure that it wasn't the love that he had tried so hard to pretend it was. He certainly had never wanted to do certain things with Conrad or Gwendal that he had wanted to try with Wolfram. Shoot, now he knew he was blushing and he hated doing that in front of Murata. It was almost impossible to hide anything from the Great Sage – who was smiling much too smugly in Yuuri's opinion.

"No," Yuuri insisted but with conspicuously less conviction.

"He's in his room, dressing alone, you know," said the Great Sage.

Even as he repeatedly shook his head in denial, more from sheer stubbornness than anything else, he knew that he really wanted to go. He needed to – no, wanted to – talk to Wolfram. He didn't think he could take one more hour of this misunderstanding; one more hour of Wolfram being miserable. And if he was completely honest with himself, he couldn't take not being near the blond any longer. He really was a wimp. Two weeks of the silent treatment and he caved. Some Maou he turned out to be.

"The Maou is allowed to make a fashionably late entrance, Shibuya," Murata called after him as he headed out of the room.

Yuuri found that running around the castle dressed as the Original King may not have been the best of ideas especially when in a hurry. Never one to be rude, he ended up conversing with more people during his run to Wolfram's room than he had the entire week.

When he'd finally reached his fiancé's room, it was to find it empty. Damn!

"Are you looking for his Excellency?" Yuuri turned to see Doria with a handful of towels in her arms. "Wow, your costume suits you so well, Your Majesty!"

"Um… thank you, Doria." He looked back to the door and then to the girl again. "Do you know if he had gone to the ballroom already?" It was still early and he had hoped to talk to the blond before they both headed down.

"No, I think I saw him in heading for the garden. He mentioned a bit of fresh air before getting stuck in a crowded room."

"Ah!" But which garden?

Doria laughed and pointed down the hall. "The West garden."

Yuuri thanked her quickly and sprinted down the hall. Luckily, his dash to the garden was not at all eventful and he managed to get there without stopping to talk to anyone. But that didn't mean that Wolfram was easy to find and yelling out the blond's name as if looking for a lost cat would probably not go well with his fiancé. In fact, seeing how things were going, Wolfram would probably run the other way.

Yuuri sighed, almost giving up as he trudged between tall trees. That was one really nice thing about this garden, parts of it were like walking in the deep forest; he'd spent hours here sometimes just walking and thinking.

As he cleared the last batch of trees, he stepped onto a stoned paved area. In front of him was a small fountain surrounded by flowering bushes of all colors and fragrant. And standing with his back to Yuuri was Wolfram, dressed in the outfit that he and Greta had picked out. The blond seemed lost in thoughts and didn't appear to have noticed that he was there. Yuuri took the time to drink in the sight that had eluded him for the past two weeks. He felt a strange tugging in his chest that he couldn't quite explain. He had felt that many times before when he'd seen his fiancé after a long absence. He had never paid much attention to it thinking that it was probably nerves – Wolfram was notorious for yelling at him over some imaginary wrong-doing on his part – but now he wasn't so sure. The odd feeling in his chest grew to a dull ache as he watched Wolfram's straight back, the tilt of his head as he gazed up at the stars, and the way he was caressing the single flower in his hand.

Then Yuuri blinked at the small blossom, suddenly feeling a flood of warmth through his body. The flower Wolfram was holding had been created just for Yuuri. Wolfram had insisted on planting them next to a patch of 'Beautiful Wolfram' at the base of the garden. Wolfram had said that it was like a marriage and that their flowers would be together forever. It had irritated Yuuri at the time but he had given in nonetheless; it was usually easier to give in to Wolfram than to fight.

He had always thought it was because he didn't want the trouble associated with an angry Wolfram – it could be most detrimental to his health (and many others around them). Now he wondered if part of him had always had this awareness… that subconsciously, he had been trying to please his fiancé and for a completely different reason than fear… or nerves.

Wolfram sighed suddenly and said, "Greta said that you picked… " He paused to look down at his clothing before continuing, "…this out for me."

So much for the blond being unaware of him…

"Uh, yeah but –"

"If you didn't want me around anymore, you could have just told me," said Wolfram without waiting for Yuuri to finish. "This is a little too public of an announcement, don't you think?"

"Huh?" Yuuri had no idea what his fiancé was talking about and his mind couldn't wrap itself around what was being said enough to come up with an intelligent reply.

Still facing away from him, Wolfram crushed the blossom in his hand and tossed it into the fountain. "Have it your way, Yuuri," he said quietly. "If this is how you want it, it's my duty to obey." And then Wolfram started to walk away from him, in the opposite direction of the castle. What was going on?

"Wait!" Yuuri called out but the blond did not stop. Yuuri ran after him and grabbed his arm. "What are you talking about? Is this about the costume? I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking."

Wolfram snatched his arm away, finally turning to face him. Yuuri's breath caught in his throat at the look of despair in the blond's face. No… this was not what he had wanted. "Wolfram…"

"Just…" Wolfram's voice shook, hands clenched by his sides as he fought for control. "Just tell me what you want me to do, Yuuri, and I'll do it," his fiancé said with a slight tremble in his voice. "You want to cancel the engagement? Fine, I'll rescind it. You want me to leave the castle? Okay, I'll go back to my family land." There was a catch in his voice and Wolfram paused to take another deep breath before continuing. "Just tell me what to do. I'm so tired of fighting with you, Yuuri."

"Wolfram." Yuuri found that the blond's name seemed to be the only thing he could say clearly. The deep ache in his chest at the misery his fiancé was in, nearly robbed him of all speech.

"Your Majesty!" Conrad's voice rang out behind Yuuri and Wolfram started to turn away again. He grabbed a handful of the blond's coat and held on tight.

"Don't leave," he said hurriedly. "I don't know what's going on but I don't want anything you had just said, so… just…"

"Yuuri! Wolfram!" Conrad called again and Yuuri could hear the rushing footsteps as the tall man approached.

"Don't leave," he pleaded softly. There was a strange emptiness at the thought of never seeing Wolfram again and he pushed that away quickly, not wanting to deal with it.

"Guests have started to arrive, you both need to be in the hall now… is something wrong?" Conrad asked, his eyes going from Yuuri to Wolfram, and then to Yuuri's hand on the coat. "Yuuri?"

He let go of the fabric and laughed self-consciously, wondering how foolish that must have looked.

"Ah… no, everything is fine. Right, Wolfram?"

"Yes, everything's fine," said his fiancé, a little forcibly. "I'll go in first." And then he started for the castle.

"Wolf –"

"We should go, too, Your Majesty."

"I told you to use my name!" Yuuri growled, suddenly irritated with the whole world. He was at a complete loss about what Wolfram was saying. But the strong and quiet presence of his protector managed to calm him down and he was now more confused than angry.

"Conrad," Yuuri said still staring after the rigid back of his fiancé. At least, the blond was going into the castle and not into the woods. "What am I doing wrong?"

Conrad ruffled his hair gently and then smoothed it out with care. "I don't think you're doing anything wrong, Yuuri but these things take time."

He sighed as Wolfram disappeared into the castle. "I've never seen him like this; I'm not sure I have more time."

They had fought before, had shouting matches, called each other names and some of the fights were physical enough for both of them to be sporting bruises the next day but this time, Yuuri felt hopelessness so tangible, he could feel their ties slipping away.

"Yuuri," Conrad's voice was cautious, making him look up curiously at the other man. "Is _that_ the costume you picked out for him?"

Yuuri hung his head and groaned. "I know! It's my fault! I've just figured out that he'd probably wanted to dress as Rufus, you know to match all of us but I was so stupid, I didn't think of it until it was too late and now I don't know how to fix it."

"I don't think that's the problem," Conrad said as he started for the castle. "Wolfram thinks that you're trying to get rid of him."

"He told me that too but I don't understand why?" Yuuri asked, almost running to match Conrad's long strides. "What's going on?"

"Do you know how Roland von Bielefeld died?"

"Well, yeah. He was killed by bandits."

"This is my fault," Conrad grumbled, berating himself. "I should have asked to see this mystery costume that Greta was so determined to keep secret."

"Conrad!" Yuuri came to a complete stop and yanked the tall man to a stand still with him. "Why are you blaming yourself? What is going on?"

"Roland's fiancé set him up," Conrad said. "In order to get out of the engagement, the man hired a gang of bandits to abduct him, luring Roland out, and then kill him."

Yeesh… Yuuri's jaw dropped. What the heck?

"Yes. Exactly." Conrad tuned towards the castle again.

Yuuri followed a little dazedly. "But… but the historical records didn't say anything about that."

"The detail was kept a secret. It was best to have him died a hero rather than a jilted lover. Only a few ruling families are privileged to that information. Unfortunately, they are all here."

"But it's a mistake," Yuuri said as they entered the long corridor leading to the reception hall. "They'll understand, right?"

"I think you know that people in this world take symbolism quite seriously. If they believe that you had made Wolfram wear that, I'm afraid that a lot of people will be offended."

This was preposterous. He just wanted Wolfram to not be mad at him anymore. How on earth had it turned into something that could potentially cause a civil war?

Conrad did not wait to be announced into the reception hall; he took the side corridor that led to the balcony and ushered Yuuri through.

"You need to find him and well…" Conrad rubbed the space between his eyes as he paused to think but Yuuri had stopped listening. Wolfram was not in the reception hall; he was in a corner of the balcony standing against the wall, well out of sight.

"I got it from here," Yuuri told Conrad as he started for his fiancé. "Keep everyone away."

"Yuuri."

He turned and smiled at his friend and protector. "I think I _finally_ know what to do. Trust me."

Conrad smile and nod. "I always have, Yuuri."

Yuuri didn't wait to see if he'd left; he trust that Conrad would. He turned his full attention to Wolfram who watched him silently as he approached. The blond had his arms crossed, his stance defensive and vulnerable. Yuuri's heart went out to him and though he wasn't sure exactly how he felt about the proud Mazoku prince, he knew that it was not mere friendship.

He also knew that at the moment, there was nothing he wouldn't do to wipe away the tears and misery on the blond's face. Nothing.

And then Wolfram scowled, turning his face away. Yuuri couldn't help the little zing that went through his entire body at that little act of defiance. He would take that over the obedient and melancholy Wolfram any day. His heart suddenly felt tremendously light, as if a great burden had been lifted. Suppressing a smile that was sure to drive his fiancé into a violent and doubtless loud fit, Yuuri came to a stop right in front of the blond, just a few inches short of touching him.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I'm happy you're here."

"Hmph!" Wolfram snorted, still not looking at him. "I'm not here for you. I promised Greta a dance."

This time Yuuri couldn't help the smile that threatened to split his face. They were actually talking.

"Will you let me explain about the costume I picked?" It was pointless to tell the blond that Greta had been in on it, too. It would have sounded like an excuse and Wolfram would be even angrier. "I swear I didn't know about the fiancé. The historical records didn't mention anything about –"

"I know," Wolfram grumbled, in the middle of his explanation.

Yuuri stared at him. "You do?"

Wolfram sighed. "At first I was angry…" he started to say with a small frown. "But then I thought about it and I realized that you're not like that. You wouldn't do something that underhanded."

Yuuri felt like he was about to burst. "Wolfram."

"Don't get me wrong; I'm still mad at you!" The blond turned to glare heatedly at him, his face flushed and green eyes sparkling – just the way Yuuri liked him.

"Absolutely!" Yuuri nodded quickly, suddenly feeling like a puppy wanting to please. Just because he had fixed the costume fiasco, didn't mean he could do the same to the marriage issue… Maybe he could slap Wolfram again – no, better not. With his amazing ability to screw things up, slapping someone on the left cheek a second time would probably constitute more insults.

"Your Majesty," Conrad called out softly from the corridor they had used earlier. Yuuri frowned at the interruption but his curiosity got better of him when he saw that the man was carrying a small stack of clothes. Conrad handed that over to Yuuri with a smile and then left them alone again.

AH! The man was a lifesaver.

Yuuri turned to Wolfram again but the blond was determined to keep a strict vigil on the bushes beyond the balcony. Then it struck Yuuri that Wolfram was out of sight on the balcony and not in the ballroom. The significance of it was not lost to Yuuri and he loved Wolfram that much more.

Oh my god.

What the…? Love? Where did _that_ come from?

Wolfram turned around at the sound of choking noises. When the blond frowned at _him_ , Yuuri realized that _he_ was the one making the sound. He swallowed hard, his chest thudding loudly as his heart threatened to burst forth. Hearing Murata say it and having thought of it all by himself was definitely _not_ the same thing.

"Yuuri! What's the matter with you?" Wolfram asked; anger changed to concern. He leaned in close, as he scrutinized Yuuri's face. "Why are you all red?"

Was that it? Was this feeling love? _THE_ love? Wolfram's cool hand touched his cheeks gently and Yuuri took a step back involuntarily. Concern warred with hurt and Wolfram pulled his hand away quickly as if burnt.

"No!" Yuuri grabbed the hand, dropping the bundle in his arms in the process. But he didn't care about that; he just hated that look of pure dejection on his fiancé's face. "It's not what you think."

"It's never what I think, Yuuri!" Wolfram scowled and snatched his hand away again. "Am I the only one that's always wrong?"

Yuuri snatched it back up and this time he held it against his heart, letting the blond feel it hammering away inside his chest.

"No… it's not you; it's me. I'm the one making the mistakes." He clutched the warm hand to him a little tighter. "I don't want to hurt you any more."

Wolfram frowned, tugging on his hand, which Yuuri refused to let go. Finally the blond gave up and glanced around self-consciously. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked as if he didn't quite know what to think. "Let go. What if someone sees us?" His flustered fiancé protested and gave his hand another tug though with very little effort.

In the past it had always been Yuuri who was worried about such things. He'd finally come to a cross road and it really was time for him to choose his path. "Let them," he told Wolfram softly, not letting go of the blond. And as he gazed into the confused emerald eyes, he saw them cleared and shone with hope he hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Yuuri?"

"Since you're my fiancé, I hardly think that this is inappropriate," he commented with a smile. He felt light and giddy for some reason. "Let them see."

"Not in that outfit, you don't." This time it was Gwendal's voice behind Yuuri.

He sighed and turned to find both brothers standing near the shadows of the corridor. Conrad looked disapprovingly from the bundle of clothes on the floor to Wolfram, and then to Yuuri. "Why is he still in his clothes?"

"Conrad!" Wolfram exclaimed; face flaming. This time he managed to pull his hand free from the surprised Yuuri who felt unexpectedly empty at the loss. Gwendal coughed into his hand but maintain the perpetual scowl, which lost most of its effect when coupled with pink cheeks.

Yuuri followed Conrad's gaze and realized he had forgotten all about the change of clothes. He picked them up and shook out possible dirt, looking sheepishly at Conrad. "I dropped it," he said lamely and quite unnecessarily.

"We noticed," Gwendal replied dryly. "We're doing our best keeping people off the balcony," he continued, pointing to the closed glass double doors where Gunter stood on the other side talking to Gisela. "Hurry."

"I can't possibly change here!" Wolfram eyed the clothes in Yuuri's arms uneasily.

"Why not?" Yuuri asked. "They're keeping people away, so it's just you and me. No one will see."

"You can't go back to your rooms," said Conrad. "This castle is getting crowded especially passages leading to the ballroom. You may have eluded people coming here earlier but that will not be the case now."

"This is all _your_ fault!" Wolfram glowered at Yuuri.

"I think we should leave them alone now, don't you?" Conrad said quickly.

Yuuri didn't know what Gwendal's reply was, he didn't pay much attention to anything else but his fiancé's flashing eyes… he felt they were particularly sparkly for some reason…

"What?' Wolfram asked after a long silence from Yuuri.

Yuuri shook his head, smiling. Then he handed the stack of clothes to Wolfram, unexpectedly eager to see glimpses of bare skin – and he wasn't even going to pretend to be shocked anymore; he'd had way too many dreams featuring Wolfram for that.

"I'm sorry about the costume," he said as Wolfram warily took the clothes. "Regardless of what his fiancé did, it doesn't lessen the fact that Sir Roland died a hero. I still think he is an epiphany of love and devotion and when I chose him as the hero for you, all I thought about was how similar you are; about how there wasn't anything you wouldn't sacrifice for me and how stupid I am for not appreciating that enough." Yuuri paused and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "I guess I chose him because I wanted you to know that I don't doubt you – I never did and I never will."

Wolfram frowned a little uncertainly though there was a hard edge at the corners of his eyes. "That doesn't change the fact that you don't want to marry me."

"It's different," said Yuuri, shrugging helplessly. "I'm still a kid; I don't want to marry _anybody_ – at this time, maybe later! But that has nothing to do with how I feel about you."

Wolfram narrowed his eyes slightly; looking as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "How _do_ you feel?"

"Uh… Well…" That was the million dollar question wasn't it?

"Don't hurt yourself thinking, you wimp!" Yuuri caught a face full of fabric as his angry fiancé hurled what seemed to be a pair of pants at him. Before Wolfram could launch another garment, Yuuri took his arm and pulled him further into the shadows on the side of the balcony. He pressed Wolfram's back against the stone wall, pinning the guilty arm next to the blond's head.

"I think you're supposed to be wearing that," Yuuri said, glancing at the next ammunition clutched tightly in Wolfram's hand.

"Shut up, you… wimp!" His fiancé tried to push him away but Yuuri firmly pressed against him, wedging one knee between Wolfram's legs. This position made him quite aware of the lean, hard body of his fiancé so close against his own. It gave him a very pleasant tingly feeling… the kind that he had insisted could not be the basis of a marriage. It felt pretty good and much nicer than his dreams had ever been.

"Can I kiss you?" He blurted out.

"Huh?" Wolfram stopped struggling and blinked at him in astonishment.

"Can I kiss –"

"I heard you the first time!"

Yuuri's eyes drifted to the lips in question. "So, can I?"

"Why?"

Yuuri dragged his eyes back up to meet his fiancé's. The emerald depths gazed back at him steadily. Despite his earlier shock, Wolfram seemed to have recovered and he had his guard up again.

"You asked me how I feel," Yuuri said softly, maintaining their eye contact, knowing that he had to convince the blond. "I have never really thought about it before, not until these past two weeks and even though I'm still not one hundred percent sure, I _think_ I might love you, too. Maybe…"

The shock was back and Wolfram gawked at him with his mouth opened – which was perfectly fine for Yuuri. He leaned over and covered those stunned lips with his own, nibbling gently at the soft lips before sliding his tongue in to caress Wolfram's - who tasted just as sweet as he had in Yuuri's dreams. He sighed contentedly and he deepened the kiss, arms holding his fiancé close.

At one time, he'd thought it would be gross to kiss another boy but that had gradually changed and he had even come to crave the taste of Wolfram these past few months. Was what he feeling love or just hormones? How could one be sure?

Yuuri pulled away slightly to take a breath and Wolfram whimpered softly, hands clutching tightly at Yuuri's sleeves – and Yuuri had his answer; this was definitely _not_ hormones. The aching tenderness he felt for the young Mazoku nearly robbed him of his breath. He caressed the side of Wolfram's face, and then cupped his cheek and kissed him again.

Part of him was aware that he should be shocked and appalled by his behavior but most of him was feeling too good to care. And Wolfram was no longer angry; he was actively participating and moaning quite deliciously.

"Wolf," he murmured against the luscious lips. Heh, he'd never understood that term before but yeah… yummy. He attacked said lips again, making his fiancé gasp at the ferocity.

"Ahem."

Yuuri tried his best to ignore the discreet coughing and deliberate shuffling of feet behind him but his fiancé apparently could not. Wolfram pushed against him insistently and Yuuri grudgingly tore his lips away.

He spun around and was about to exclaim, " _WHAT_?" when he saw that Greta and Murata had joined Gwendal and Conrad and they were all looking quite full of themselves.

"Yay!" Greta clapped her hands and bounced up and down. "They made up!"

Murata smiled and came up to them, handing Yuuri a folded creamy white material.

"I think this would suit his Excellency much better that those." He pointedly looked at various garments scattered about the floor.

Wolfram stepped up from behind Yuuri and took it from Murata. When he unfolded the fluffy material, it turned out to be a wedding dress. Greta squealed and launched herself at Yuuri – who was staring at the dress and his fiancé with opened mouth. Wolfram looked up at Yuuri, his eyes challenging as he wiggled the dress in front of him.

"Well?" his fiancé asked, uncertainly lurking just beneath the defiance.

Yuuri smiled, all hesitation vanished as he watched Wolfram. He finally knew what he wanted.

"I'd like to do this the proper way," Yuuri said and got down on one knee in front of his fiancé. He took off his ring, not caring that it was given to him as the Maou, and held out his hand. "Wolfram von Bielefeld, would you please marry me?"

The stunned but elated Wolfram looked like he wasn't sure what to do. The blond looked at the crowd waiting in anticipation, and then nodded to someone – Yuuri suspected it was Conrad coaching his brother – and then he placed his hand in Yuuri's.

"Yes, you wimp," Wolfram whispered, smiling amidst the tears of joy. "I thought you'd never ask."

And then Yuuri was suddenly flat on his back with an armful of Wolfram and the wedding dress. The floor was cold and uncomfortable but the soft, warm bundle sobbing in his arms felt like heaven sent. He held his fiancé close, kissing the side of his neck, and murmuring soothing words.

It no longer mattered to him that he was still a high school student, or that he was marrying a boy.

All that mattered now was Wolfram.

End~


End file.
